This article appeared in the October 2024 edition of The Catholic Telegraph Magazine.
After recovering from a recent bad bout of COVID, I found myself reflecting on a cultural malaise that seems to have lingered since 2020: irritability. This pandemic hangover has woven itself into the fabric of our half-digital, half-physical society.
Now, I was irritable as a child and vividly remember dreaming, almost daily, of leaving irritable humans behind once I turned 18, to live alone on a deserted island. With only books, pencils and paper, I was confident I could manage from watching countless survival shows. My many published books (yet to be written) would fund necessary supplies and occasional visits from friends—and I had plenty of good friends. But by age 10, I seemed to have figured out what Thomas à Kempis verbalized 600 years ago: “I have sought for happiness everywhere, but I have found it nowhere except in a corner with a book.”
That youthful dream still holds a certain romance, but maturity now makes clear that on that island I’d quickly laugh at the trivial irritations that once bothered me—just before panicking over my desperate situation. While irritated far less often today, its causes are much the same as in childhood. Still too possessive of my personal time, I also treasure silence to such a degree that long car rides can become awkward for other passengers.
A tendency to irritability is universal and reflected throughout Scripture. Contrast Martha’s frustration over Mary leaving her to complete household chores alone (Lk. 10:38-42) with Jesus’ righteous anger when He denounced the scribes and Pharisees (Mt. 23:13-36). The key difference between them is whether the irritation is justified: Martha’s arose from personal frustration, while Jesus defended the sacred.
Like Martha, we often justify our irritability too easily, or we don’t bother justifying it at all. And we deal with it in varied ways: some of us raise our voices, others reach for a glass of wine and still others avoid social interactions altogether—but still find they audibly curse technology when it fails.
If we’re not careful, irritation easily disrupts the inner peace Christians are called to cultivate, so it’s crucial to remember that irritability most harms the irritable person. As St. Leo the Great wisely noted: “Those who are not good to others are bad to themselves.”
Fortunately, there are positive ways to address and avoid irritability. I focus here on four.
First, create a daily reminder to be patient. Though we all recognize the value of patience, we seldom reflect on practicing it daily. Write “patience” on a sticky note and place where you look daily. The virtues I strive to cultivate are stuck on my mirror so that I pray with them each morning.
Second, and more intuitive, willfully respond with gentle kindness during moments of irritability. I emphasize willfully because kindness may not come naturally at the time. But it effectively counteracts the vice by shifting our focus outward, transforming frustration into deliberate acts of love.
Third, practice prayerful journaling, a powerful tool (and a virtue I discussed last month). This helps us see with the eyes of eternity rather than the narrow lens of the moment, reminding us that most irritations are insignificant in the grand scheme of things.
Finally, whenever you face irritations, remember: There is no thorn God has permitted that He has not already reddened with His own blood. Christ already won victory over the world; we now need only let Him win in our lives.
Comments